


Like at First Sight

by TamiaNichelle



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: College AU, F/F, Fluff, Natasha and Ward are step-siblings, Natasha's a cocky little shit, Romance, Ward's an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamiaNichelle/pseuds/TamiaNichelle
Summary: Pinnelope learned pretty quickly that nothing good can come out of any kind of interaction with Grant Ward. Or so she thought. That is until she meets his sister, Natasha.College AU





	1. Natalia

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries. If you can do better, then help a girl out. :)

I shouldn't have come. I have better things to do than to be at a party in the house of someone I don't know. I could be sitting in the comfort of my own apartment wearing my favorite sweats and fuzzy socks. Instead, I'm wearing a short t-shirt dress and six inch heels. I'm surrounded by drunk college students who are probably just as clueless as to who's house this is as I am. Is the week off of washing dishes that my roommate promised really worth all of this?

"You're sulking again."

I turn towards the voice and see the bright blue eyes that have come to irritate and comfort me at the same time. Bucky, my roommate, smiles his signature smile and shoves a red cup into my hand. He always does this. I'm not a drinker. Bucky knows that. But he insist on trying to get me to 'make the most out of my college experience' to which I usually respond with variations of 'I'll do that by graduating'.

"I'm not sulking," I say as I put the cup down and pick up the third water bottle of the night. "I just don't want to be here." I look around at the party-ruined living room that we're in. "Who's house is this anyway," I asked, frowning.

Bucky's smile fell. "Are you still mad at me," he asked. I noticed that he didn't answer my question. "I'm sorry, okay? Grant is usually a good guy. He slept around a lot so I guess should've know this would happen. He said he wanted a girlfriend and I was dumb enough to believe him." 

"Buck, I'm not mad at you," I said with a sincerely. 

Grant Ward and I had been dating for a little over a month after Bucky had introduced us. In that month, we only went on one date which Grant cut short when he got a call from his 'cousin' about an 'emergency. At the end of our month together we were talking in my apartment when he tried to get in my pants. When I refused, he called me a prude and got up to go to the bathroom. Half an hour went by when I heard him talking to someone. I got up and tiptoed to the bathroom door so I could hear him better. He was breathing hard and talking on the phone, describing all of the things he wanted to do to the person on the other end of the call. I opened the door and a string of curses and half-assed apologies left Grant's mouth as he fixed his pants which he had lowered to his knees. I remained calm and quiet the entire time. Once he stopped talking I simply said "leave".

"Really?" Bucky perked up like a happy puppy. 

"Yeah really," I laughed before getting serious. "Now, who's house is this, Bucky?"His face fell again and he grimaced. "Ah, see about that," he chuckled nervously. Before he could continue, Grant stumble over to us and threw his arm over my shoulder. I could tell by the guilt on Bucky's face that this was our party host. _Well shit._

"Well, hello Pinnelope , he slurred. He was drunk. Very drunk. Which really wasn't a surprise. After all, sleep around, getting drunk, and partying are Grant's favorite hobbies. "I'm glad you came. I'd hate to think that you'd be sitting in your apartment, crying because of what happened between." He tried to look sincere but his red and glazed eyes ruined it.

"Ok," I scoffed while pushing his arm off of me. "We weren't together long enough for me to cry over you. But I would much rather be in my apartment than here. Bucky," I said and he looked a little scared. I held up two fingers and mouthed, "two weeks." He nods and ducks his head sheepishly. 

Just then, the front door burst open and reveals a pretty red-head, very clearly pissed off. Her eyes were like green fire as they scanned over the ruined room. Her breathing sped up when she saw Grant and she stalked towards us. "What. THE. FUCK. WARD," she growled. 

I've seen this kind of hate on other girls' faces before.She must be another one of Grant's conquest. She's exactly Grant's type: pretty. Beautiful actually. She had long eyelashes that framed her emerald green eyes perfectly. Her eyebrows were perfectly arched. She had on just the right amount of makeup, though I could tell that she didn't need it. Her fiery red hair fell just past her shoulders in loose curls. And her black crop-top and high waisted skinny jeans made it very easy to see that she had a body that could stop a truck.

She glances at me and I realize that I'm staring so hard that I'm probably my burning a hole in the side of her face. She looked me up and down. Then when her eyes meet mine, her anger fades some and she smiles a little. I duck my head, letting my hair fall from over my shoulder in an attempt to hide my own shy smile.

Grant noticed our exchange and tried to put his arm back around my shoulder but I brushed him and stepped away from him. He huffed angrily and turn back to the other woman, clearly annoyed.

"What do you want, _Natalia_?" He spat her name out like a curse and she frowned and clenched her jaw. "You come to ruin all the fun again?" Okay, so hate goes both ways with these two. That's unusual whoever this girl is, she's most definitely not one of his victims. After Grant I 'broke up' - if can even really call it that - I often witnessed girls screaming at him about variations of my time with him. Unlike me though most of those girls weren't as.... resistant to Grant's 'charms' as I was. During these screaming matches I usually saw a sick kind of amusement in his eyes or annoyance when it was no longer fun for him. But never have I seen this anger in his eyes, this hate that tells me that not only has he hurt her, but she retaliated in a big way.

"Mom and Dad will be here in less than twenty-four hours. So I suggest that you get everyone out of here and start cleaning. Because they'll lose their shit if they get her and it looks like a frat house."

Siblings. Interesting. Other than being extremely attractive, they look nothing alike. _Woah there, Nelly_ , I thought. _Grant's an asshole and you don't even know this girl. Keep it in your pants_ , I look down then correct myself, _or dress._

Grant lets out a sinister laugh, one you might hear from the devil as the world burned. He leaned down a little so that was eye to with his sister. "Aw," he said mockingly. "Is little _Natalia_ afraid of Mommy and Daddy?" He laughed again then sneered. "We're adults," he snapped, "grow some fucking balls."

"You're right, we are adults," I could tell that she was struggling to stay calm. "So maybe you should grow the hell up and stop acting like you're still in high school."

I snort. "That's gonna be a little hard for him," I mumbled louder than I meant to.

Grant turned to me with a new emotion on his face. What is that? That can't be... betrayal? _Ha! That's funny!_ He glares at me for a long second. "You know what?" He gestured to he sister and then to me. "Why you two go fuck each other or whatever it is that you dykes do? You two are so much alike. Two stuck up bit-"

"Alright," Bucky cut in. I kind of forgot that he was there. He can be so quiet for such a big guy. "Why don't we go get a drink, he says, instantly catching Grant's attention. As Grant started walking towards the booze, Bucky turned to me and whispered "sorry", then turned to join hi s friend but looked back at me when I looked beck at me when I touched his arm.

"Keys," I said, holding out my hand.

He rolled his eyes and huffed playfully then reached in his pocket and pulled out the key to his truck. "You'll come pick me up in the morning," he asked as he put them in my hand.

"I always do," I said with an exasperated sigh. He chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. "See ya," I said as he walked away.

When I turned to leave, I see that Natalia is still standing there and our eyes meet. She's calmer now, her once hard and angry, emerald green eyes are now soft and kind, maybe a little cocky but in a playfully. _Say something_ , I think. _Don't just stare like a fucking creep. Speak._

She must be able to tell that I'm struggling, because she smirks. "Hi, I'm Natasha," she says, holding her hand out to me. I take it and give her a small smile.

"Pinnelope."


	2. Finally

Natasha keeps my hand in hers and and steps closer to me. "If you don't mind me asking," she whispers. "Was Ward just being an ass or are you actually gay?"

It takes me few seconds to process what she said. Her voice was so gentle now. So different from the cold, sharp tone she used with Grant. She still had that smirk on her lips… her perfect… kissable- _No! Pinnelope, focus!_

“Uh, ye- I mean, I’m bi,” I stuttered. 

She nods but doesn’t say anything for a moment. I can’t help but feel off balance. Her eyes were so intense. It was like she could see into my soul. _Wow, that is so cliché. Get your shit together!_

“You hungry?” Her voice interrupts my internal reprimanding. I nod and Natasha smiles excitedly. “Great! Let’s go to IHOP . I’ll pay. Breakfast food is the best when you’re drunk.” Still holding my hand she walks toward the door pulling me with her.

I chuckle, “I’m not drunk, though.” 

She waves her free hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Breakfast food is also the best food period.”

I giggle as we make our way outside. When we get in the driveway, I take the lead and pull Natasha to Bucky’s black Ford F-150. She lets out a low whistle as she ran her hand over the hood. When she turns to go to the passenger’s side, we realize that we’re still holding hands. I don’t want to let go. Her hand is slightly bigger than mine and really warm. This is the first time in a while that I wasn’t worried whether I was squeezing too tight or if my palm was sweaty. It was comforting. 

I reluctantly let go and she starts to walk away. She sways her hips a little more than before. I quickly turn away, making my way to the driver’s side before she could catch me staring… again.

After I adjust the seat to accommodate my shorter legs ( _freaking giant_ ), I reach behind me and grab my bag off the floor. I take off my black heels and pull on my white Vans and sigh as I feel the memory foam insoles wrap around my feet.

Natasha chuckles and I turn and see her watching me. “I take it you don’t like heels,” she asks, looking to where I tossed the six-inch death traps carelessly on the back seat.

I shrug, “heels are fine but they weren’t really worth it tonight. There wasn’t anyone at this stupid party that I was interested in impressing.”

Her bottom lip pokes out and she puts hand over her heart. “Well now my feelings are hurt.” Her eyes drift down and stop where the hem of my dress does at my mid thigh. “I was very impressed. Your legs look amazing.”

I chuckle nervously and turn away from her. I start the truck and hum when it roars to life. I’ve always found Bucky’s truck strangely relaxing.

“If I had it my way,” I murmured, “ I would never give this thing back.” 

“You like trucks?"

“ _Love_ trucks,” I respond, pulling away from the curb and starting down the street. “But my Dear-Old-Dad thinks they’re dangerous so I had to go with my second choice.”

“And that was…?”

“A pretty blue Camaro…,” I chuckle and shake my head. “I must sound like such a spoiled brat. ‘Oh no, my daddy wouldn't let me have the car I wanted so instead I had settle for a _brand new Camaro_. What ever shall I do?’” I laugh at myself and Natasha joins in.

“I’ve actually seen worse,” she must see the obvious question on my face because she continues, “Ward wasn't very fond of the brand new red Mustang he got for his seventeenth birthday. So, two week later he got into an “accident” and that beautiful piece of machinery ended up completely recked in a ditch. And of course, his dad replaced it with the cherry red Ferrari he wanted instead.”

“Wow” is all I could say at first. Then, “Wait. Grant’s Ferrari is black.” One of the only things that Grant ever talked about that wasn't himself was that car.

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah the one he has now is black. But the first one was red.”

“He crashed a Ferrari?!”

“Oh, God no. I like to think that his dad would've drawn the line at that, but who knows? Anyways, no he didn't crash it, he just got tired of it after two years because it wasn't the newest model anymore. So his dad sold it and bought him the one he has now. He's had it for a record breaking _two years and nine months_ beating his previous record by _three whole months_.”

I stop at a traffic light and look over at her. The red light bathing her face reminds me of her argument with Grant earlier and the anger on her face. I think of how Grant had called her “Natalia” and how she tried not to react but didn't quite manage it. 

“Can I ask you something,” I whisper. 

She pauses at the sudden change in my tone. “Sure,” she says nervously.

“So earlier, Grant kept calling you Natalia and you didn't seem to like that. And I thought that it was just because of the _way_ he was saying, kinda like it was a curse or something. But then you said that your name is Natasha. What…?”

She takes a deep breath and points forward telling me I can go now. “Natalia,” she says slowly, “was my name before I was adopted. My mom found me in Russia and took me in. Then when she met Grant’s father and we moved to the U.S., I asked her to change it. Natalia reminds me of being alone, being unwanted. So that's what Grant does, he calls me Natalia every now and then to remind me that I'm unwanted. By him at least, because that's all that matters apparently, that he doesn't want me here.”

We drive in silence for a while. Then I say, “I think Natalia is a beautiful name.”

I see her turn to me out of the corner of my eye. “It doesn't sound to bad when you say it,” she whispers.

I want to tell her how cute this moment is. So sweet that I think, _god, we sound like a romance novel_ , and I laugh to myself. But then I hear Natasha laugh too and I realize that I said that out loud. Yep, sarcastic and lacking any kind of filter whatsoever, that's me. Ruining what could have been a nice moment. It's happened before, mostly with Bucky, who seems to be one of the only people in my life who can tolerate it. 

I glance over at Natasha with an apologetic smile one my face. But she doesn't seem offended. She has a huge smile on her face. She’s looking forward and she seems much more relaxed than she did a minute ago. 

_Finally. Someone I can be myself around._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends hate me for ending this chapter the I did. They "wouldn't talk to me" until I gave them the next chapter. Shout out to you Day Day and Danny! My first fans :)


	3. 3 a.m.

After about fifteen minutes of comfortable silence, we’re pulling into the parking lot of IHOP. I park the truck and Natasha starts to get out as I reach in my bag to get my wallet and my phone.

I look at the time and seem that is almost three a.m. “Wow its kind of late to be- oh shit!” I let out a startled yelp when my door suddenly swings open, but I relax when I see that it's just Natasha. When I say relax, I mean I am no longer getting ready for a fight. Instead I now have to focus on not passing out. I lean my forehead against the stealing wheel trying to steady my ragged breathing and racing heart beat.

“What are you doing,” she asks, and I can hear the amusement in her voice.

“Trying not to die from the heart attack you just gave me,” my tone isn't as sarcastic as I want it to be due to the lack of air in my lungs. 

“Yeah and you're doing great at that,” unfortunately her sarcasm was spot on. “But that's not what I meant. Why do you have your wallet out?” I keep my head on the wheel and turn to look at her, raising my eyebrow. “I told you I would pay.”

“Why,” I finally sit up and lean back against the seat. “We barely know each other. We literally just met less than an hour ago.”

“Isn't that usually why people go on dates?” There it is again, the perfect amount of sarcasm with that damn smirk. “To get to know each other?” I hate it and I love at the same time.

“A date?” I scoff playfully. “I don't remember being asked on a date,” I face forward and look at her suggestively through the side of my eye. 

She chuckles. “Pinnelope.”

“Yes?” I nonchalantly pick up my and start scrolling through Instagram. 

Natasha grabs my hand and starts trancing small circles on the of it with her thumb. “Pinnelope,” she whispers this time. 

I look down at our joined and I'm struck again by how comfortable this feels. Then I look up to see that the intense look is back in her eyes. “Yes?” My voice isn't quite as steady anymore.

“Will you go on a date with me to IHOP at three o'clock in the morning?” Her voice is irritatingly steady and so very soft.

I shrug before murmuring, “I guess I could squeeze you into my very busy schedule.” She laughs at failed at keeping my composure, then tugs gently on my hand to get me out of the truck. I turn the truck off and put my wallet back in my bag, the turn back to Natasha. As I slide down from my seat, I look down to make sure down to make sure my dress is straight and I notice that she is wearing black Vans like my white ones. It's not that big of a deal, these shoes are really common, but I think it's cute. 

I am about to acknowledge the coincidence, but stop when I realize that I have to look up a little to look at her face. I quickly look away trying to hide the intense excitement making its way across my face. I'm slightly above average height so I've always had a thing for girls who are taller than me. 

She squeezes my hand a steps a little closer. “Is something wrong?”

I shake my and stutter, “N-no, I just- with my heels on earlier I was taller than you, but without them you're taller.”

She smirks. _Damn you, smirk._ “Is that a problem?”

“No! God, no!” I'm almost shouting. I clear my throat and lower my voice, “I mean, it's kind of unfair that the longer we're together the more attractive you seem to get.” She raises an eyebrow and I start to explain. “First of all, you find Grant more irritating than I do, which automatically gets you brownie points. Then you say that breakfast food is the best food. That is nothing but the truth and anyone who disagrees can kick rocks off a cliff and follow. And then not only do you tolerate my sarcasm, you seem to enjoy it and you're just as sarcastic as I am, if not more. I don't know very many people like that. Then to top it all off, you're more physically attractive than any one person has a right to be. And that wouldn't be a problem, unless you turn out to be just as much of an asshole as your brother is…,” I trail off when I realize that I'm rambling, but then I softly add, “but I don't think you are… an asshole.”

After a few seconds, Natasha gently pulls her hand - that at some point I pulled into both of mine - away from me, then brings both of her hands to my cheeks. She rubs her thumbs over my cheekbones then tilts my head down and leans forward to press her lips to my forehead. “You're pretty damn attractive too, you know,” she whispers against my skin. She pulls back and smiles, but keeps my face in her hands. 

My cheeks heat up and I know Natasha can feel it because her smile gets bigger. I try to play it off by shrugging. “Yeah, I get that every now and then.”

I don't think I did to well because she laughs and kisses my forehead again. When she releases my face, my checks instantly feel cold and I feel kind of sad. But then she pulls both of my hands back into one of hers and the brief sadness quickly fades.

“C’mon,” she pulls me forward the entrance of the restaurant. “I'm hungry.”

As soon as we walk through the doors I am enveloped in warmth and smells of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. The smell makes me think that even if this date goes terribly, I'll still leave here happy. _But it would be great_ , I think as my hands tighten around Natasha’s, _if this doesn't go terribly._

We walk further into the restaurant and a waiter that think is about our age came up to us. “Hello, welcome to IHOP. How may I help you?” He seems annoyed but he tries to keep a smile on his face. _Tries being the being the key word._

“Table for two, please,” I say with a smile. 

His smile brightens immediately. “Yes! Right this way,” he say excitedly and starts walking toward the booths against the side windows. Once we sit down across from each other, he says that his name is Eric and that he and a guy named Daniel would be serving us. He then gives us menus and quickly walks away. 

Natasha laughs when Eric almost falls. “He’s a tad bit too excited for three in the morning.” 

I giggle. “You know what he was thinking right.” She leans against the table and waits for me to continue. “‘Two girls walk into a restaurant at 3 a.m. looking _amazing_. I have no chance with them. They must be waiting for their dates to get here, right? But wait. A table for two? So it's just them. Awesome.’ He's probably back there talking to the other waiter about us.” Natasha scoffs. “I'm serious. Five bucks says that they try to get us to go on a double date with them.”

She laughs. “Ten says that one of them tries to keep us both for himself.” She holds her hand out to me with a challenge in her eyes. And I'm not one to back down to from a challenge, so I grab her hand and shake it. 

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I picture Natasha, I always picture her as taller than me and I'm 5'9. My Natasha's height will come into play again and it will more than likely me adorable. So, sorry if you wanted her to be tiny like Scarlet Johansson. If you don't care great.


	4. Bet

_Is this wrong. I don't think this is wrong._ We're not leading these guys on, but we're not exactly turning them down either.

It is quickly discovered that Natasha is much better than me at social interactions. So whenever one of the boys calls us beautiful or asks why we're out so late by ourselves, she responds. Always friendly and warm but never flirtatious.

It is easy to tell which guy either of us is rooting for. Natasha's victory lies in Daniel’s hands. He's nice enough, but the constant innuendos he throws at us make it very apparent how he wants any interaction he has with us to end. He mentioned that he liked how quiet I was because “if a man knows what he's doing, the quiet ones scream the loudest.”

 _Ugh._ The other comments were kind of funny but that one made me want to physically cringe and took just about everything within me not to react. But then I turned to Natasha and there's this look in those eyes that I am becoming increasingly fond of. On the surface she looks as discussed as I felt, but underneath there was something that made me think, _I wonder just how loud_ she _can make me screa- NO!… No.You just met this girl. I don't care what kind of panty-dropping looks she gives you, you're not think about that right now._

So… moving on. 

I'm rooting for Eric. He’s really sweet and respectful. He’s a little shy, which doesn't really go well with his obvious crush on Natasha, who’s so confident. He keeps not-so-subtly mentioning places he thinks we would enjoy and it’s obvious that he means all four of us.

“He just asked,” I whisper after Eric leave our table. “I win. Pay up.”

“No, no, no,” Natasha shakes her head slightly and smirks. “He didn't ask, he simply said that he thinks that his favorite bar would be a fun place for us to hang out.” I think she can tell that I'm about to say that it doesn't matter because before I even open my mouth, she speaks up again. “You made it very clear in the parking lot that for it to be a date he has to specifically ask.”

I frown. I hate it when my sarcasm back-fires like this. I stick my tongue out at her then huff and cross my arms and pout like and angry child. “You're a mean lady, Natasha,” I murmur. 

She laughs and I find myself becoming mesmerized by the sound. It sounded like the most beautifully crafted wind chimes. “Nat,” she interrupts my thoughts. My confusion must show on my face. “My friends call me Nat,” she clarifies. 

I smile and lean forward. “Well, I’m not gonna lie. I was hoping that we could be more than friends.” The smile she gives me causes me to falter slightly and I have to have to distract myself with the fill-the-blank selection of the kid’s menu that I convinced Daniel to give me. “I'm gonna call you Tasha,” I murmur shyly and after a deep breath I look back up. “You can call me Pinn, or Nelly, Nell, or Nutella, or Hart. That's my last name by the way. Hart.” _Shut up, Hart._

_Yeah, that's a good idea. I'm gonna do that._

Natasha has a amused look on her face. “Mine’s Romanoff,” the way she's looking at me worries me a little. I can't tell what she's thinking. “I'm sorry,” she shakes her head as if to clear it. “But…did you just say I can you Nutella?”

“Really?” I roll my eyes with playful exasperation. “That’s what you focus on? I just told you that I want to go out with you and that's what you're worried about.” I laugh and shake my head. “Yes. There are only two other people that I let call me that. You should feel honored. You're welcome.”

Her laugh hits me again and my cheeks heat up. She reaches across the table to grab my hand and plays with my fingers for a minute. “Your hands are really soft,” she whispers. 

I'm about to respond but before I could, Eric and Daniel walk up, each carrying a refill of our drinks. Neither Natasha nor I need it seeing as though we've barely taken a few sips from the last refills the boys brought us less the ten minutes ago. “Can we get you ladies anything,” Daniel asked a little too enthusiastically.

 _Some privacy would be nice_ , I think. _A chance talk without you two popping up every ten minutes_. I was starting to get a teensy bit irritated with them. They haven't necessarily done anything wrong. But I really like Natasha despite having just met her and this isn't the first time they've ruined a moment like that for us. Even if this wasn't a date, the constant hovering would be too much. Im starting to get over this bet and looking at Natasha, I can tell she is too.

I raise an eyebrow at her, thinking _you ready to go?_ I can tell she understands. 

She nods and turns to the guys. “Just the check, please,” she looks back at the table and adds, “and a to-go container.” I look down too and notice that we barely touched the six pieces of French toast that we ordered. I silently thank Natasha. French toast is my favorite breakfast food, but it's been a while since I've had any. I'd probably strangle myself if I let this go to waste.

Neither of of them look please. But while Eric walked away, Daniel obviously wasn't ready to give up. He tries to convince us to stay and finish our food. He keeps calling us beautiful and gorgeous. While it's nice to hear it's also kind of annoying.

My hand is still in between both of Natasha's, right next to drinks that just placed on the table. I honestly don't understand how they haven't caught on by now. The whole time that we've been here, Natasha and I have been nothing short of extremely affectionate. A while after we were seated, I got up to use the restroom and when I came back Natasha pulled me into her lap. I put my arms around her neck and didn't move until after the boys had brought us our drinks. I was still in her lap when I asked Daniel for a kid’s menu. If Natasha had been a guy, it would've been insanely obvious that we were on a date. 

As Daniel continues his attempt at persuasion, he sits next to me and tries to put his arm around my shoulder. I have to pull my hand from out of Natasha's to slide away from him. Luckily, Eric shows up with then with the check and the container because when my hand leaves hers, she looks a Daniel like she's ready to contemplating murder.

I quickly gather the food as Natasha paid for it. I gently but firmly push Daniel out out the booth so that I can stand. “Look,” I cut him off mid sentence. “You're a cool guy. A little pushy, but cool. But neither of us is interested. Just accept defeat a back off.”

For a second, I think that he's going to keep trying. He has this look that tells me he doesn't like being told what to do. _Please don't do something stupid, dude._ But then he lets out an irritated huff and puts on a strained smile.

“Thank you for visiting IHOP. Please come again.”

Natasha puts her hand on my lower back then moves it around my waist. As we turn toward the exit, I see Daniel’s eyes fall to my waist and that look from earlier comes back but angrier as he finally figures it out. _Shit_ , I think right before he grabs my arm roughly. But before he do anything else, I pull his hand off my arm and twist his wrist until he cries out in pain then I hold it there. 

“You feel that?” I twist his hand a little more and he cries out again. “You feel that? I could brake it. But I'm choosing not to.” I hear Natasha let out a small laugh when she recognizes the line from Karate Kid. I hold him there for a few more seconds then let him go and push him away from me. “Let's go, Tasha.”

She chuckles. “Lead the way, Nutella.”

When we get into the parking lot, I hear Eric calling out to us. I let out an irritated sigh. “I might not have broken Daniel’s wrist but I'm positive that it's sprained. I could do the same for you and then the both of you can get matching braces.” As I talk I don't turn around to look at him. When I finally do turn, he has his hands up as if he is surrendering.

“Woah. No, no. I come in peace.” He puts his hands down and smiles. “I just want apologize for him. He has has never been good at controlling his anger.”

“Thanks but you're not the one who should be apologizing and I doubt he's in the mood right about now.”

“But maybe I could make it up to you.” Eric steps closer to us. “We should go out. Just the three of us. What do you say?”

For a second, Natasha and I just stare at him. Then I groan “damn it” at the same time Natasha laughs and says “yes” victoriously. Eric looks confused as I walk angrily to the truck and Natasha stays in front of him.

“So is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’,” he asks Natasha.

“It's a ‘no’,” I yell over my shoulder. “You're a disappointment, Eric!”

Natasha laughs again and says, “sorry man, but if it makes you feel any better you just won me ten bucks.”

“I'll leave you,” I yelled as I got in the got in the drivers seat.

“Don't be a sore loser,” she says and skips to the truck. 

When she finally gets in, I pull a ten dollar bill out of my wallet and slap it into her waiting hand. Her wide grin got even wider and she asked excitedly, “so, what're we doing next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I'll try to start posting a chapter every Friday from now on.


	5. Like at First Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. I'm sorry. I lied. This took a lot longer than a week and I honestly don't have an excuse other than that it's my senior year of high school and I'm a procrastinator... please don't hate me.

“Next? Are you kidding? It’s almost 5 a.m. ‘Next’ I would like to go somewhere and sleep before I have to go pick up that idiot that call a roommate from your house.”

“Aww, come on,” Natasha whines. “The night is young.” She was practically bouncing in her seat. How could she possibly be this hyper this early in the morning?

I chuckle. “The ‘night’ is morning, Tasha. I’m tired. And Bucky probably got drunk off his ass. Hungover Bucky is hard enough to deal with when I’m not suffering from sleep deprivation.”

That’s not completely true. Bucky is actually quite adorable when he’s hungover or even just tired. He tends to get super clingy almost like a little kid. It’s just that he’s 200 plus pounds of pure muscle and when most of that weight leaning against my 140 pounds of pure cuteness then doing just about anything becomes a problem.

She doesn’t respond at first. She seems to be thinking hard about something. Her expression is blank and it worries me a little. But then her face splits into a wide grin and that absolutely terrifies me.

I narrow my eyes at her and she giggles. She’s bouncing again and says excitedly, “let’s go watch the sunrise.”

I let a groan. “Natasha,” I whine. “I. Want. To. Sleep.”

“I know, I know.” She still sounds excited. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and starts typing something. I suddenly realize that this is the first time that I’ve ever seen her phone tonight and make sure that the smile that that thought causes isn’t on my face when she looks back up at me. “Okay. So, according to Google, the sun will be rising at eight fourteen a.m. We can go somewhere to watch it, and you said you want to go ‘somewhere to sleep’. We can do that while we wait.” She smiles victoriously and there’s little I can do to stop a smile, albeit begrudging, from spreading across my face as well.

“Fine,” I huff. I put the truck in gear and pull out of the parking lot. I knew the perfect place to watch the sunrise. I had already been there many times. “You’re lucky I love sunrises.”

“Awwww,” she coos mockingly. “And do you also like long walks on the beach, and rainy days spent cuddling by a fire.”

“Shut up,” I grumble petulantly. I see out of the corner of my eye, waiting for me to answer with her elbow on the center console and chin in her hand. I sigh dramatically. “Yes! Okay? I love the typical romance movie and book bullshit! Nicholas Sparks is one of my favorite authors and The Twilight Saga is my favorite book and movie series. Sue me!”

She chuckles but then says sincerely, “That’s good to know. Gives me an idea of what I need to do to spoil you.”

My skepticism must have shown in my silence.

“I’m serious,” she says earnestly. “You will be thoroughly spoiled by the time we are old and grey.”

I don’t know how to respond. I can see her still leaning on the center console but instead of teasing, she is giving off a different atmosphere, one that I am to put a name to. Luckily, we arrived at our destination, so I just say, “We’re here,” then quickly get out of the truck.

“Nel-,” she starts but is interrupted by my door slamming shut. As I make my way to the back of the truck, I hear Natasha’s door open and close. The next thing I know, her hands are cradling my face, tilting my head up so that she can look in my eyes. “What wrong?” Her eyebrows are furrowed with worry.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, but the look in her eyes tells me that she doesn’t buy it. “Really,” I insist. “It's just- I mean-,” I sigh. “This is just moving a lot faster than I’m used to. It usually takes me months to get someone to buy me candy that cost a dollar at Walmart. But here you are. Three hours after meeting and you’re already talking about spoiling me.” I look away because I’m starting to get nervous. “And then there’s the fact that you keep looking at me like you’re-“, I cut myself off, unwilling to say the words.

“In love,” she finishes quietly. She smiles softly when my eyes snap back to hers. She chuckles. “What? You’ve never heard of love at first sight?”

“I’ve heard of it, I just don’t believe in it,” I mumble.

She stays quiet for a long moment and for a second I’m worried that offended her.

But then her face breaks out into a huge grin. “Wait,” she says in between quiet laughs. “So you love romance novels and movies, but you don’t believe in love at first sight?”

I giggle. “It’s a cute concept but I don’t think it’s real.”

She’s still chuckling. “So what _do_ you believe in?”

It takes me a while to answer and as I’m thinking, Natasha’s thumbs start to slowly move across my cheekbones, which doesn’t help matters at all. “I believe in… _like_ at first sight. I think people can feel an intense attraction towards one another, but I just don’t think that you can truly love a person if you don’t know them.

She thinks about that for a while. I’m happy that she seems to be considering my point of view. Guys who didn’t truly believe in it, but realized that they would have to work a little harder to get me into their beds have broken me up with me over my stance on this subject.

She eventually nods. “Ok, well,” she puts her hands on my waist and pulls me against her, also pulling gasp from between my lips. “I like you a lot.” Then she kisses me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really just winging this. So I have absolutely no idea where this story is going. But this chapter and the next one were what started this idea for me, so enjoy and be patient with me.


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